


And Miles To Go Before I Sleep

by overused_underrated



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angry Aziraphale (Good Omens), Caretaking, Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gay, M/M, NaNoWriMo, Partner Care, Poetry, Self Care, Sleep, Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-21 16:15:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overused_underrated/pseuds/overused_underrated
Summary: NaNoWriMo - Day 1Aziraphale has a tough day- Crowley suggests a nap
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 41





	And Miles To Go Before I Sleep

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/531389) by Robert Frost. 

Angels, by nature, do not sleep. There is no need- they are ethereal. Demons don’t need to sleep either, but many have done and will do so. Crowley was quite the master on the subject. Not only did he choose to sleep, he enjoyed it. Reveled in it. Aziraphale never understood the pleasure…

It had been a long day- a  _ very _ long day. The bookshop was filled with people who wanted to actually  _ buy _ Aziraphale’s books, the Ritz didn’t have a table available, even with a minor miracle, and the shop’s roof sprang a leak, creating a small tide pool in the study. Aziraphale had had enough. Once he and Crowley returned home, he slumped in his desk chair and miracled a bottle of scotch. Chateauneuf de Pas simply wouldn’t cut it tonight.

The angel sat back and took a long swig. Crowley watched as Aziraphale prepared to get absolutely  _ shitfaced. _

“Woah there, Angel. Today was that bad, huh?”

Aziraphale looked up, completely miserable. “I haven’t been this stressed since Gabriel told me Heaven was going to phase out bow ties…” Crowley moved to the couch, shoes gracing the water that remained un-mopped.

“Oh, Satan, really?” He rolled his eyes, letting them settle on the figure across from him. “Maybe you should take a nap- that’ll help calm you down.”

Aziraphale shook his head, almost in a laugh. “You can’t be serious, Crowley…”

The demon cocked his eyebrow. “Why not? Always did me a lot of good…”

“Yes, so good you missed the debut of the Eiffel Tower…” Aziraphale was snarky to begin with, but he was even worse when he was upset.

“ _ Hey! _ At least I woke up to save you in Germany.” Crowley liked to hold that over the angel’s head. “Besides, what’s the harm? We don’t report to anyone now. So, if we sleep for a century, who cares?”

Aziraphale now rolled his eyes. “ _ I _ would care, thank you very much! Besides, I’m an angel- angel’s don’t sleep. I wouldn’t even know how to…” His voice was plagued with annoyance from the subject, with a twinge of sadness.

Crowley took off his glasses; eyes were glowing. “I can help you with that..” His voice was soft and kind- like he was talking to a child. Not belittling or demeaning, but full of love and compassion. 

Aziraphale paused for a moment, both physically and mentally. He slowly slouched back up, looking at the demon, “...really? How?”

Crowley softly smiled. “Well...you’d take a nice, relaxing shower. Then I’d have you change into some comfy pajamas. I’ll make you a cup of hot cocoa to calm you...” Aziraphale listened intently. Never before had he been interested in sleeping. It was the way that Crowley spoke, full of warmth and care, that made Aziraphale consider it.

The angel looked at the bottle in his hands. “That...sounds lovely, actually. Would...would you read to me?” he asked, eyes now focusing on his love.

“Of course, Angel. Whatever you’d like.”

Aziraphale stood and returned the bottle to the liquor cabinet by the desk. He went to the bookshelves, squinting as he read the titles, carefully deciding. After a minute, he smiled and removed a rather old and dusty book from its spot. The angel turned back to the demon, who had been watching him, and smiled. “This one?” 

Crowley took the book in his hands, carefully reading the title  _ Collected Poems of Robert Frost _ . He answered with a smile, “Gladly.” Crowley led the way upstairs, carefully holding Aziraphale’s hand behind him. The demon led him to the bathroom and gave the angel a gentle kiss on the cheek. Aziraphale did as instructed and took a long, hot shower. When he was done, his favorite pajamas (a baby blue silk sleep sets with llamas on it) were waiting for him were, freshly folded on the counter. Aziraphale smiled and got dressed.

Crowley, meanwhile, prepared a fresh cup of cocoa with exactly three large marshmallows (Aziraphale required seven if they were the small kind), and a sprinkle of nutmeg. He readied the bed with fresh sheets and fluffed pillows. The book sat on his end table with the cocoa, waiting. 

Aziraphale found Crowley dressed the same, lying on the bed. When the demon looked up, he smiled. “Better?” 

Aziraphale nodded, “Yes. Thank you.” Crowley pet the angel’s side of the bed, beckoning him to join him. Aziraphale smiled and found a place under the sheets and nuzzled into Crowley. 

The demon handed Aziraphale his cocoa, sitting in the quiet and calm. When the angel finished, Crowley took the mug and dimmed the lights. “Ready?” Aziraphale nodded. “Close your eyes, my love.” The angel obeyed and Crowley began to read.  _ Whose woods these are I think I know...His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here...To watch his woods fill up with snow.  _

Crowley read softly, barely letting the words fall from his lips. It wasn’t long before Aziraphale was fast asleep. The demon sat there, angel resting in his arms, and gently stroked his hair as he continued to read. When Crowley finished the book, he returned it to his night table. He would not be sleeping tonight. 

How many nights had Aziraphale laid awake while Crowley slept in his arms? Too many to count. Plus, the fact that an  _ angel _ was sleeping was such a rarity in itself, Crowley ensured it must be witnessed in its entirety. Who knows how long it would be before it were to happen again? The demon remained where he was, lovingly stroking Aziraphale’s hair and arms, guarding him as he slept. Robert Frost echoed into the night  _ But I have promises to keep.. And miles to go before I sleep..And miles to go before I sleep...  _


End file.
